


co-op play

by capra, shomaun_ho



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Bottom Shoma, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Under-Desk Blow Jobs, brat yuzu, challenge kink, kind of, video games - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-26 07:17:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21370279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capra/pseuds/capra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/shomaun_ho/pseuds/shomaun_ho
Summary: what if shoma's frustrated gaming sounds sounded like sex?what if they were?
Relationships: Yuzuru Hanyu/Shoma Uno
Comments: 9
Kudos: 70
Collections: capra's NaNoPostMo 2019





	co-op play

**Author's Note:**

> i was GOING to edit and publish an existing fic chapter for y'all.
> 
> then @shomaun_ho and I got to talking, and then this happened.
> 
> we're incorrigible, you guys.

*

“Dude, was that a - was that a sneeze? All like, breathy?”  
“That sounded like _ my _ sneeze!”  
“Yeah, but you have a silly voice, Kazu.”  
“It’s not silly! It’s like Shoma’s.”  
"...Thanks?"

Shoma swallows, clearing his throat, so that the next noise he makes will be a word and not another of the strange strangled creaks that has everyone on mic mocking him. They’re all over the globe tonight - the GP series will do that to you - but thanks to the wonders of technology and a bit of cash to unlock the high-speed hotel WiFi, distance isn’t an obstacle. They’re all in his ear, and he’s in theirs, and he was really happy, and proud of them all, to have managed to keep their monthly game night streak going unbroken, even if it did mean losing some sleep before the gala tomorrow.  
  
_ Was._  
  
Now, well, he’s happy - kind of - but also regretting his life choices. Specifically, the one that said _ yes _ when his boyfriend asked if he could hang out tonight while Shoma had his game night with the guys. They never see enough of each other - even if they spent every second in which they share a postal code glued to each other’s side, they’d still come away from it wanting more. So it made sense when Yuzu asked to come over just to curl up against Shoma’s side and sleep against his warmth.  
  
Shoma was, and continues to be, a fool.  
  
He’s sitting on the end of one of the beds, a good viewing distance from the television, and he’s naked from the waist down. He glances away from the TV, which is feeding him the display from his computer by an HDMI cord, to take a quick glance down between his thighs, at the absolute _ gremlin _ of a boyfriend crouched there.  
  
Shoma doesn’t skimp when it comes to his gaming equipment. So he can’t hiss Yuzu’s name in irritation, can’t say a thing at all that his mic won’t pick up. Not even the softest sounds, like the aforementioned unidentified creak, which was most definitely _ not _ a sneeze.  
  
Shoma looks back at the screen, hands on autopilot, deeply grateful that tonight they’re not raiding a high level dungeon. He’s trying a new theory - maybe if he isn’t looking at Yuzu when Yuzu looks up at him, he’ll cope better. Yuzu’s been looking up at Shoma frequently, but that doesn’t mean Shoma _ has _ to look down at him.  
  
He does, anyway, when Yuzu clears his throat softly, then delicately closes his lips around the head of Shoma’s cock with a smirk. He is _ able _ to smirk around Shoma's cock, which is frustrating on several levels: First, that Yuzu's smirk is frustrating in its own, in any context. Second, if he can smirk while blowing cock, that means his mouth isn't even close to being _ full _ of that cock but by now it really, really ** _should _ ** _ be, shit, Yuzu, come on already. _  
  
But Shoma can’t say any of that, either. He grits his teeth together, cusses something that could, feasibly, be about the monster in the game, and exhales. Yuzu sucks, and Shoma breathes. He’s just got to pace himself, and he’ll be fine.  
  
They’ve done this before, so Shoma’s used to the rhythm of it. Yuzu acts like he's finally taking pity on Shoma and begins to bob and stroke him with velvety-smooth caresses, hand and lips moving together in really lovely twists, finally taking in a bit more of his length, and Shoma lets his eyes flicker shut just for a moment.  
  
His character dies. _ Damn it! _ He’s back to the lobby to respawn, and his team is confused. He's really glad they're walking between dungeons for some chill level grinding tonight, and not actually actively on a boss raid - because there's no way he could manage that kind of precision right now. They’ve all worked too hard for too many hours to craft their armour and ready their weapons for Shoma to blow it all for the whole party because he’s trying not to blow his load.  
  
“What happened, Sho?”

“Bad initiative order, I guess,” Shoma croaks, playing it off. Koshiro’s trusting. Probably he’ll leave it at that. Even though Yuzu made sure to grab Shoma's balls right in the middle of his sentence, trying to make his voice crack. Shoma swats at him with one hand, quickly, because he needs his hands on the controller, and pretends his cock didn’t like that as much as it did.  
  
The games - online and off - continue.

Once he’s got Shoma comfortable, hard but feeling steady about it, well-grounded in his patience and his measured breathing, Yuzu starts to massage Shoma’s legs, absentmindedly licking and sucking on Shoma’s cockhead throughout. Honestly, Shoma has to admit that it feels _ amazing _ as Yuzu’s hands, strong and thin and cool, knead their way up Shoma’s calves and thighs. And _ inner _ thighs. Aaand now Yuzu’s being mean again.  
  
Shoma finds he’s slouching nearly off the bed’s end by now, thighs spread wide, feeling pliable and warm thanks to Yuzu’s hands. He digs his toes in the carpet to make sure he doesn’t slide further and carefully, consciously keeps his breath steady, slow and deep.

After a while of this, and some focused nips and hickeys on his inner thighs, Shoma's so hard his cock smacks against his belly when Yuzu pulls off of it again, and Shoma grunts - it's a sharp sensation, good and bad at the same time. Clearly Yuzu's decided that's the theme for the night: pleasure, but he’s going to be a dick about it. Shoma doesn't hate this as much as he’d like to.

Yuzu stands up and gets onto the bed, urging Shoma to climb up too. He puts some of the pillows at the foot end of the bed and shoves Shoma’s shoulders down til he’s braced on his elbows and spread knees on the bed, ass in the air. Yuzu gets off the bed again, tilting the television screen on its swivel and checking with Shoma as he does, finding the best angle for Shoma to still see it clearly. Shoma imagines someone else, someone who didn't know Yuzu, would find this sweet. 

Shoma knows Yuzu, so he dreads. 

Once Yuzu's got him comfortable, he goes around behind Shoma, out of sight. Shoma can hear him undressing, but the screen reflection, now that it’s angled down, only shows him himself and his own cock. Yuzu returns sooner than Shoma thought he might, as naked as he hoped he’d be. He kneels behind Shoma and snuggles close. Spoons, but kneeling.

In this position, Shoma's expecting Yuzu to start stroking his cock again; maybe stroke his chest too, grind on him, get him off and make him be silent through it. Yuzu might grind off on Shoma's ass, nipping at his shoulders; he’d come all across his crack, or on his back in that perfect divot above his ass. It's familiar, maddening, and honestly pretty good. They both love challenges, and Yuzu found a way to gameify sex because Shoma loves games, and isn't that love right there?

Yuzu is not planning business as usual. Shoma has no idea how he missed the click of the bottle opening, but he must have; the first knowledge he has that Yuzu's going off script is Yuzu's lube-chilled fingers sliding messily down his cleft just to make him shiver.

Asshole.

Yuzu puts pressure on Shoma's back between his shoulder blades, holding him down, and now Shoma really understands why Yuzu tilted the screen. He can't get quite the right dexterity on his controller with his wrists gathering friction on the pillows like this, and he narrowly avoids dying. Again.  
  
The rest of the team starts razzing him, and cheerfully brutal chatter fills his ear. “_That _ almost took you out, man? The fuck!”  
  
Meanwhile, Yuzu is shoving one finger in, tip to root. Then he just _ leaves _ it there, which is so much worse to adjust to than slow smooth strokes and Yuzu _ knows _ that, and Shoma’s abruptly far worried more about his own survival than his game avatar’s. This half-full stillness is the kind of sensation that makes a man mindless, both too much and too little, and trying to focus through it is like trying to see through fog in the dark.

By the time that Yuzu’s done stretching Shoma open, being as intentionally maddening as he can about it, Shoma’s nearly hissing with impatience. _ Just get on with it, _ he’d be begging, if he could, if Kazuki and Koshiro and Keiji weren’t hearing every breath he takes, or doesn’t.  
  
But this is _ Yuzu_, and ‘just get on with it’ isn’t in his vocabulary, when instead he could accomplish the same thing but with a challenging entry. So he's steering Shoma by the iron grip he’s got on his hips, dragging him backwards. Yuzu could easily push himself forward, using gravity and his own body weight and a well-chosen angle to drive his cock into Shoma. But that wouldn't unbalance Shoma as much, wouldn't make his fingers slip on the joysticks for more than one reason, fighting not just for focus but actual balance.  
  
What _ will _ do that is this grip Yuzu has on Shoma’s hips, long fingers splayed around and gripping the wings of Shoma’s hips like a steering wheel. A grip that, when Yuzu’s holding on tight enough, in the right way enough, lets Shoma give over his body and let Yuzu move him where he wants him. Able to let his hips go loose, quelling every muscle memory that’s been trained so much for so long so that he can hold his body exactly where _ he _ wants it, in position, on axis. Yuzu grips Shoma’s hips, thumbs rubbing reassuringly on the dips on either side of his spine, just above his ass, and Shoma can let all that go, and let Yuzu take over.  
  
Can let Yuzu pull him, agonisingly slowly, onto his cock.

He’s lubed up but not quite stretched enough, and that’s just how he likes it--how he _ loves _ it. Yuzu loves it too, loves pulling Shoma on like a glove that’s just a little too tight, feeling his body give in. They both love the feeling of Shoma’s body grudgingly giving in, allowing Yuzu to forcibly make a space for himself within it. Yuzu’s teeth silently mark that appreciation in little red marks like morse code along the crest of Shoma’s shoulder.  
  
Shoma’s mouth is hanging open, and he’s holding his breath as Yuzu breaches him. It’s the only way he can do this, the only way that he can be _ sure _ no sound will slip out as Yuzu fills him and his fingers quake on the game controller, directing his character in nearly nonsensical manoeuvres because he's jamming all the wrong keys in the wrong order.  
  
He can’t go forever without air, and he can’t let his character glitch out for too long on screen, so Shoma inhales deeply, pushing through the sensation, soaking in the ache and the pleasure both. Yuzu’s inside, he’s so _ full _ of Yuzu’s heat, Yuzu’s _ girth_, and it feels so, so good. So fuck—  
  
" **Gghck…!** Nnn- _ nnnhh-- _ "  
  
Shoma can’t see Yuzu’s smirk but he knows it’s there. Just as he’d drawn a breath, thinking they’ve finished the first in stroke, Yuzu held Shoma steady and punched his own hips forward, gave him the last couple centimeters he was holding back - that Shoma didn’t _ know _ he was holding back - in one rough, completely unexpected thrust.

Shoma gapes, silent and open-mouthed, knowing that his croaking, moaning wheeze was _ absolutely _ captured on the audio, knowing there’s no explaining it, praying that it just sounded like an expression of gaming frustration, that it didn’t sound as extremely bad as it felt extremely good. And Yuzu's so, so smug. His smirk is so much, so obnoxiously present, that it’s _ breathing. _ His smirk has its own mailing address.

As pissed as he is turned on, cock rigid against his own belly, Shoma lurches up, using the strength of his core alone to lift himself from elbows and knees to just his knees. This sits him down hard on Yuzu's cock as they rock back together, and yeah, he lets out a blatant gasp this time, because he can't not. **_Fuck,_** it's good.  
  
“Woah. You okay, Shoma?”  
“I’m fine. Caught me by surprise is all.”  
“Yeah, I think they tweaked the AI on these monsters,” Keiji agrees. “They’re moving in different patterns tonight.”  
  
Shoma lets his head fall back on Yuzu's shoulder, eyes only half open on the screen. It’s the only form of _"yes, thank you, this, good, give me _**_more_**_"_ that he can offer under the circumstances. His hands, his eyes, his voice are all unavailable. Hands to the controller, eyes to the screen, and voice to the microphone. What’s left is the rest of his body - and his body is still eloquent, of course. It can tell Yuzu so much. _Too _much, though, because it’s giving Yuzu _all_ the cheat codes, but Shoma's got to keep control of himself. If he moans on mic he'll probably just have to die and delete his account entirely.

But he _ loves _ feeling Yuzu seated so fully in him. _ Loves _ feeling the ache of him pressed deep inside, the delicious pressure on his rim, the forceful spread of his ass, thighs split side to side to let Yuzu get deep in between them. He puts his thanks, his hunger, into a body roll that starts with his ass twisting on Yuzu's lap and runs up his spine, rolling every bit of himself with firm pressure against Yuzu's belly and chest. And there's something dizzyingly heady about doing this when he's on a live mic. When one small mistake, one lapse in concentration, could give everything away.  
  
But if he's careful....nobody will know. He can keep up his conversation with Kazuki and Koshiro and Keiji, keep playing the game, and nobody will be any the wiser. Nobody will know what he’s doing. Not even that he isn’t alone in his hotel room. 

Yuzu nips at his ear, then sucks his earlobe into his _ mouth _ , and Shoma bites his tongue to stay silent, even as he trembles. Of _ course _Yuzu did. Of course. No matter what they’re doing, it’s just more and more challenges: as fast as he can think of them, he adds them in, and just trusts that Shoma can endure them all.

And he can. He just has to _ focus_.

It starts getting _ really _hard when Yuzu begins bouncing him in his lap; the motion chops up his breath too much, and Shoma shakes his head, making Yuzu stop. The game will be blown too easily this way. It’s no fun like that. They work together, lower him back down again to his elbows and knees, and Yuzu polishes his palms over the roundness of Shoma's ass in front of him, with the small of his back tucked and his ass perked up. His rim looks gorgeous, stretched around Yuzu's cock like this, and it makes Yuzu want to wreck him until it’s swollen. Shoma learns this fact when Yuzu rubs his thumb along that tight tender line, massaging, savoring it, to silently tell Shoma how much he appreciates it. Shoma’s not the only one who can’t speak.

Shoma has to bite his lip as Yuzu starts fucking him, slow and steady like a rocking horse to begin. Then he leans into it, and suddenly Shoma not only has to keep breathing steadily, and not gag on his own tongue every time Yuzu hits his prostate, and somehow still continue to control his character in the game -- but now he _ also _ has to support part of Yuzu's body weight on each thrust. Yuzu is such a brat, _ christ _ , he just does whatever he likes and expects everyone else to--  
  
“Shit, shit, ** _shit_ ** **\--** "  
  
“It’s okay, it’s not that bad, Sho. We’ve got this. Hang back and heal up, I’ll cover you.”  
  
“Okay,” he gasps, “Thanks.”

Fuuuuuck, what was he _ thinking? _ He’s grumbling incoherently now under his breath and he knows he shouldn’t be. But Yuzu's palm is full of lube and spread wide and pressed flat against the underside of Shoma's cock, holding it against his own belly. So as they move, Yuzu's hold on it shifts a little every time, and it's an incredibly good, incredibly not enough, sensation.

Shoma tries grinding back, squirming for more, and misses a couple easy enemies cause he’s splitting his focus too much, but he doesn’t care, he just needs more, needs Yuzu to just push a little deeper right there--

Yuzu pulls away. Nearly pulls _ out _ . And then he just holds there, holds perfectly still with just his fucking cockhead still inside. _ How _ is this not driving him insane? Oh, it probably is, Shoma knows, but once Yuzu has an idea in his head, that's all there is to it; that’s just how it's gonna go.

Yuzu only gives Shoma his cock again once Shoma is still and quiet and _ good _ , once he proves he's going to hold still and let Yuzu fuck him.  
  
Keiji’s started asking whether Shoma's coming down with something, or needs a lozenge? His voice is sounding tight.  
  
“Maybe,” he rasps. Yuzu punches his hips forward, nails Shoma’s prostate twice. _ Like a fucking double jump, _ Shoma thinks wildly, biting the inside of his cheek and tasting blood. He _ barely _ kept himself from shouting that time. He’s so fucking close. He twists his ass on Yuzu’s cock, begging him to do it again. And because Yuzu loves him, he does.

Shoma’s lips are dry and he dare not try to wet them, because the mic would pick up every hungry movement of his mouth and he's afraid that the _ 'starving for cock' _ dry mouth lip lick sounds different than a _ 'haven't remembered to pause for a drink while gaming' _ lip lick. His mouth hangs open, breath rasping. Yuzu’s fingertips feel like they’ll bruise his skin where he’s holding on to him. Shoma’s fine with that. Honestly, Shoma’s kind of hoping Yuzu’s bruised his _ prostate _ by the time they’re done.  
  
He’s so _ close_.

"It's fine, I'm fine," he gasps when he finally comes and the voice chat explodes, fighting not to just drift away on the feeling as his whole body crackles with lightning and his skin sizzles, alight. "Dropped my controller, sticky fingers."

"Gross, don't eat on mic," someone says. Shoma knows his friends’ voices. He should be able to tell which one is which. Right now, he can barely remember the button combo for his basic attack.

"What're you having," another one asks.

Yuzu slams inside, pulling Shoma back by the shoulder until he’s upright, sitting on his lap. He tips back against Yuzu’s shoulder, all his weight on Yuzu’s thighs, collapsing down as Yuzu pushes up, grinding his cock inside as deep as it can physically go. Shoma flexes and pushes down, spreading his thighs and taking Yuzu in as far as he can one last time, loving the way that it makes his hole ache to do it. Obsessing over how much precise, minute detail he can feel there, as every one of the muscles at the base of Yuzu's cock clenches and flexes and his cock swells and bucks desperately inside Shoma, tugging his rim, pushing at his walls. Yuzu comes, nails scratching raw red stripes on Shoma’s chest under his shirt, mouth open in a voiceless scream, sealed to Shoma’s shoulder blade to keep himself silent. Shoma feels Yuzu’s cum filling him.

"C-candy," he manages.  
  
  
*  
  
  
When they’re apart, Yuzu listens to recordings of Shoma’s game sessions. He plays the audio on his phone and imagines he’s one of the others playing the game with Shoma, hearing but not seeing. Except Yuzu knows what was happening, knows exactly what he was doing to Shoma at each moment. He gets himself off in synch to the memory.

On their next facetime call, Yuzu confesses this, and Shoma tells him he's an idiot; he can listen to Shoma panting for him in his ear anytime he wants. “Put your earphones on,” he instructs Yuzu, even though Yuzu is home alone, “the _ good _ ones.”  
  
Yuzu's hands shake a little as he does. He’s too turned on, even, to protest that _ all _ his earphones are good; he just selects the ones with the clearest soundstaging, so that the sound feels roundest, most present in the room with him, and syncs them with his phone. Shoma’s voice comes to life in his ear, in his _ skull _. Flawlessly. As if Shoma’s just behind him, just out of reach. 

“Now close your eyes.”

*


End file.
